Debaser
by Sleather Chonkers
Summary: Being the shortest girl in her grade always made Kristy feel like she was left behind, but perhaps that isn't such a bad thing.


A/N this remainds unedited because I don't have a beta reader, anyway I wrote it awhile ago and I hope you all like it..even if it is very angsty. 

Debaser

By Heather Lawson

I think it's something to do with being the shortest girl in my grade; I've always been the last to experience things.  
I Kristy Thomas was the last girl in my class to ever well become a woman, as they so delicately put it in health class.  
While it happened to my friends when they were around twelve or thirteen it didn't happen to me until I was nearly fifteen much to my embarrassment.  
I was also the last girl in my group of friends to buy a bra, and I was the only one who wasn't asked to our junior prom.  
I remember at the time I kept telling myself I couldn't care less while I stood in the corner wearing an olive green dress thing that Claudia had picked out, it would have looked fantastic on her but on me in looked like a gherkin.  
And the thing is if you keep telling yourself that you don't care you really start to believe it.  
Because at the time while I watched all those couples dance I wished I was at home sprawled across the couch watching the 1996 world series baseball championship which I'd taped years ago, or failing that playing catch with my younger brother Michael.  
It wasn't until later that I began to wonder what it would be like to be one of those girls who actually acted their age, who wore makeup and fell so deeply in love with their boyfriends that they'd cry for days after the inevitable break up.  
But sometimes I also think I'm the last one to ever give up on anything, I was still baby sitting longer after the baby sitters club broke up, I was still wearing my uniform jeans and t shirt while every one had moved on fashion wise.  
I still found myself relating to children better then teenagers my own age.  
I still found myself thinking that love and relationships went worth anything at all.

I mean take my best friend Mary Anne Spier; she's been in a dramatic on and off again relationship with her boyfriend Logan Bruno since she was thirteen.  
They've broken up and gotten back together six times.  
The longest time they spent apart was in our last year of junior high when Mary Anne decided to "find herself" this lasted for around eighteen months until they both volunteered to help back stage at the school play during our freshmen year?  
Needless to say bells rang, fire works exploded in front of their eyes while little naked cherubs wrote Mary Anne + Logan 4eva in huge letters across the sky.  
Ever since then they've been in this relationship, sometimes they have fights and they break up or Mary Anne thinks for a moment that she doesn't love him but then the whole cycle starts up again.  
Personally I think she'll always love Logan, for her it's as simple as breathing and it's become part of who she is.  
My other best friend Claudia is the complete opposite, she's a major flirt but unlike our schools bitch goddess of death Cokie Mason she's never been referred to as a slut.  
Claudia's the sort of girl who just gets along with guys pretty well and they all see her as the fun girl, the one whose never really committed to one guy.  
Back in the eighth grade she went out with a guy named Alan Grey for a while but they broke up because lets face it fourteen is a bit to young for such a serious relationship.  
As much as I loathe Alan and see him as having the maturity of a six year old hyped up on candy, I have to admit that even now he's still hung up on Claudia.  
At the junior prom I remembered seeing him with his current date a fat girl with red hair and glasses named Verruca or something similar.  
He had this little wistful look on his face, but then again all the guys occasionally give her that look.  
In our group she's the gorgeous one, the one all the guys want.  
Mary Anne's the sweet one, and my other friend Abby Stevenson is the class clown.  
As for me, maybe I'm the shrew like in the play by Shakespeare, you know the one who acts like the mother hen and protects her friends because she hasn't gotten a guy of her own.

It's not like I've never had a boyfriend, I mean I've kissed guys but the relationship always ends after at least a month.  
Most guys don't really seem to have the patience for me, it's like they're all convinced that underneath my tom boyish exterior there's a gorgeous super model waiting to come out.  
And then when I refuse to sleep with them they tell all their friends that I'm a lesbian.  
I mean please, grow up.  
So where was I? Oh yeah at the Junior Prom.

Grace Bloom had been in charge of the decoration committee since our freshmen year, which meant we'd now, entered our seventh pink and orange themed dance.  
It didn't matter if the dance was called the Halloween hop, the Christmas bonanza, or the freshmen social; Grace always managed to fit in her two favourite colours some how.  
I wish Stacey Mcgill still lived in Stony brook, but her father had paid for her to go to some sort of sophisticated private school in Manhattan during our freshmen year, she would have at least added some sort of the style to the event.  
So there I was sitting at the edge of the prom shifting uncomfortably in my green satin dress, my high heel shoes digging into my ankles.  
I really was beginning to wonder what the hell I was doing there, and whom I was trying to kid.  
Claudia had insisted on doing my hair and makeup for the big event, in the movies when the gorgeous girl gives her homely best friend a make over the best friend ends up looking like a super model.  
But with me, I still looked exactly the same even with the makeup and the hair swept back.  
They could all still tell who I was, they all still remembered.  
Well there was no sense in getting miserable about something so stupid, besides the lame dance was beginning to end anyway.  
I reasoned that I should just go home, after all there were so many more worthwhile things I could do.  
I could organise the books for the A to Z learning centre for one thing, it was a tutoring agency the high school ran and I was in charge of it.  
Basically my sophomore English teacher Mr Blackster had found out about my organisational skills and eventually he talked me into running the agency.  
Now we mostly teamed up the smart kids in the older grades with younger students who were struggling, I'd also talked the teachers into creating lessons plans similar to what they taught in class.  
Ok so it was boring and a crappy way to spend a Saturday night, but at the time I refused to see that.  
All I could see was the fact that I was stuck in a hot smelly gym in a dress that was to big and I hadn't spoken a single word to any one in over two hours.  
It was time to leave.

"Kristy?" a voice uncertain and apologetic asked as I walked across the car park tripping in my high heels.  
I knew instantly who it was; only one person could ask some ones name that timidly.  
"What is it Mary Anne?" I asked tiredly turning around.  
"You're not leaving already? It's only eleven and I know some of the others are going to Cokie's after party," she said, partially hidden in the shadows.  
"I'm really tired, thats all" I began and then I noticed something.  
Mary Anne's hair, which had been carefully coiffed and filled with pink flowers was now a mess, her dress was slightly torn and she was glancing away the way she always did when she was nervous or frightened.  
"Mary Anne, whets wrong?" I asked carefully and a blush creeped ups her cheeks.  
"Its nothing Kristy, nothing at all" she smiled weakly.  
"It doesn't look like nothing, did Logan do something? Did he hurt you?" I asked because I've always jumped to conclusions.  
"He, he didn't do anything I didn't want him to do" Mary Anne finally said quietly her voice a whisper and that was when I understood.  
Once again my best friend had beaten me at something, it was enough to make any one feel like a big baby.  
"Oh, well, ok then" I muttered and I shot her a nervous look.  
"Was this um, did you two?" I asked and Mary glanced away.  
"Kristy!" she cried.  
"Sorry" I muttered.  
"We do things but no, not that" she admitted and I glanced away.  
It was just like the bra thing all over again but worse, because in the end when it came to stuff like this I would never know how to comfort my best friend.  
"It's ok Kristy I'm fine, but you should stay" Mary Anne said and I could feel the awkwardness build between us.  
And that was how it happened; there was no dramatic fight, no screaming match.  
Just this feeling we both had without words, a feeling that told us that Mary Anne and I were now really different.  
"Ok maybe I'll go back in, for a little while longer" I admitted reluctantly still staring at her flushed cheeks and lipstick smeared mouth.  
"We've done things, but that not," she had said.  
What exactly had she done? Several possibilities all stolen from Sam's porn video's came to mind and they were so repulsive I wanted to be sick.  
The idea of my best friend, the same girl who slept in the same bed with me when we were little, who cried during beauty and the beast, who wore mittens pinned to her jacket. Doing those things with Logan made my head swim.  
But she wasn't the little girl from my sleepovers any more; she was a young woman now.  
Some how I had spent years ignoring that.  
I felt my own hand touching my lips, almost self-consciously and I turned back to my car.  
"Actually I don't feel very well at all, I'm going to go home before I end up puking my brains out" I laugh forcing, crude loud happy go lucky Kristy to surface.  
"Ewe Kristy" Mary Anne giggled nervously and then she glanced over her shoulder.  
"Logan's waiting for me, I'll call you tomorrow morning ok?" she asked politely and I nodded UN locking my car door.

But I didn't go home, my curfew wasn't till one am on Friday nights and now that I had more time to think about it sorting through the books was a bad idea.  
Besides I was hungry, hungry for something more then bite size snacks and spiked punch.  
So instead I found myself driving to McDonalds near the towns centre, which had been built during my freshmen year.  
Stony brook had been trying for years to fight against operations and globalisation but sooner or later they lost, we now had a McDonalds, a subway and a star bucks in town.  
"Welcome to McDonalds, can I take your order?" a voice, male asks and I ended up ordering my usual cheeseburger and coke.  
It was pathetic, an athlete who had junk food cravings, but I just found out that my best friend was possibly blowing her boyfriend off so I felt like I needed a pick me up.  
Imagine my surprise when I pulled up at the window and saw Cary Ratline dressing in one of the ugly uniforms that would have caused Claudia to scream with outrage.  
"Kristy Thomas" he begins with a wry grin.  
"Just give me my order" I sigh handing over a ten-dollar note.  
"A double cheese burger and a large coke" he says smugly and I grab the paper bag out of his hands, pulling away as quickly as possible.

Of course he followed me, he was Cary Retlin the sort of guy who would follow a girl into the car park when she was trying to eat her meal by herself.  
It took a few moments for him to show up and I groaned when I saw him in his stupid smug designer leather jacket.  
Honestly what kind of McDonalds worker would wear a leather jacket? Especially when it was so close to summer?  
"Eating by yourself Kristy? Are you trying to kill yourself by having a heart attack?" he asked and I realised I should have wound my window up.  
"Shouldn't you be inside flipping burgers? Gee the cows must really hate you what you cooking their species and wearing it" I shot back rolling my eyes.  
"Shouldn't you be at some dance giggling with the BSC posse?" he asked.  
"Shouldn't you be at the dance? Wearing a stupid chess piece costume?" I asked back smiling sweetly, referring to costume masquerade in the eighth grade.  
"Actually I had to work, which explains why I'm here. It doesn't explain why you're here however," he pointed out staring at me curiously.  
"I went to the dance, I got hungry and I came here, end of story" I replied my voice growing tense, much to my horror.  
"Yeah I figured you were out dancing at some point" he said he's eyes sidling from my styled hair to my bare legs.  
"Nice dress" he smirked and I felt like breaking his nose.  
"Nice boys don't lie Cary" I sighed wearily.  
"I wasn't lying, green suites you Thomas and the cut proves that there is actually a girl underneath all your masculinity," he said quirking an eyebrow and I glared at him.  
"Oh is this when you're going to call me a dyke just because I don't wear jeans so low you can see my ass crack?" I snorted sipping from my coke.  
"Please unlike most people at our high school I don't like supporting stereotypes, besides do you know who the real lesbian is?" he asked and I made a non-committal noise.  
"Grace Bloom" he said with authority and my eyes widened with surprise.  
"You're kidding, she's so. Girly" I began.  
"Now whose supporting stereotypes?" he chided me and I rolled my eyes.  
"Did you really come out here just to talk to me?" I asked.  
"Don't flatter yourself, I just finished my shift and I was about to call Allan for a ride to Cokie's after party" he said holding up his cell phone.  
My eyes fell on the steering wheel; of course he came outside to call some one else.  
Why would any one come outside in the middle of the night just to talk to me of all people?  
"Hmm he's not answering" Cary scowled with annoyance and I reluctantly looked at him.  
"I could give you a ride, it's on my way home," I said.  
"Wow was that actual kindness from Kristy Thomas?" he asked holding a hand up to his heart.  
"Just get in dead cow boy or I'll leave you out to die in the snow," I snarled.  
"It's sixty degree's out here Kristy, I am sure I will die from the total lack of cold" he chuckled but I heard him walk around my carefully before opening the door.  
Part of me cursed myself for being so damned helpful; it was the inner baby sitter rearing her ugly head.

"You know something just occurred to me Thomas" Cary began as we drove down Stony brooks main road.  
"Something just occurred to you? Wow that must have been painful," I snorted and he smiled at me.  
"We both have unisex names," he pointed out and I rolled my eyes.  
"Kristy isn't a unisex name," I pointed out.  
"No but Kris is and a lot of people call you that, girls can have the name Cary as well" he pointed out.  
"Hmm like the psycho Carrie from the movie" "Yeah but spelt different, wouldn't it be cool if you really could move objects with your mind?" he asked.  
That thought had occurred to me before but of course I'd never admitted it.  
"Yes killing people at the prom is so cool" I drawled.  
"You could use the power for non homicidal things, like softball" "That would be cheating," I said in a mock little girl voice.  
"People cheat all the time Thomas" "I've never cheated," I said stopping at a red light.  
"Yes you have, cheating isn't just about disobeying the rules, it's about knowing that you're doing something wrong to get what you want" he explained to me.  
"We've done things, but not that" Mary Anne's voice echoed in my brain.  
"I don't know if I've ever done that, not consciously," I admitted and he laughed.  
"You're so fucking noble Thomas but you're not a saint, remember the time you read my journal?" he asked and I clucked my tongue.  
I wanted to forget all about that experience.  
"I don't see how that fits in with this theory of yours," I whispered.  
"You wanted to know about me so you did something unethical to get the information you wanted, it fits perfectly" "I apologised for that a million times and it was three years ago, when are you going to let that go?" I pointed out.  
"Oh I forgave you I'm just supporting my argument, you know if you wanted to know the truth about me you could have asked" he said meaningfully.  
"Well you're not exactly approachable," I pointed out.  
"Neither are you?" he said lazily staring at me with half lidded eyes.  
"I am so approachable" I snorted.  
"To girls maybe, but you have no idea how scary guys find you" he began and part of me knew that was true.  
"Scary?" I echoed.  
"Ok while we're being all touchy feely and honest let me let you in on a little secret, guys in our school find you scary" he began.  
"You're not like other girls, you're just as good, in fact better then most of us and you don't try to hide it, you also don't hide what you honestly think under this sweet and simple facade," he continued and I hated him for it, I hated it when people figured me out.  
"And that scares the shit out of guys, they like simple fake girls who don't really feel anything, like your friend Mary Anne, they don't like girls who challenge them because it makes them confront every secret sexist thought they've ever thought about a girl, and that scares them" he finished triumphantly.  
We were quiet for the next few minutes; the song on the radio was something from the spider man two sound track.  
"Do I scare you?" I finally asked.  
"Huh" "You heard me," I continued fiercely.  
"No" he finally answered.  
"No?" I asked, confused.  
"I always told you that complications make life more interesting" he said.  
We were getting closer to Cokie's house, just a few more blocks.  
"Oh" I whispered, stunned.  
"Yeah" he added sounding somewhat sheepish.  
"How long has this." I began.  
"I don't know awhile I guess, subconsciously," he said and of course I didn't know what to say, what could I say to something like that?  
"So I'm guessing no one asked you to the dance huh?" he asked and I shrugged my shoulders.  
"No" I said curtly and he laughed.  
"I never even thought you'd show up, dances aren't really your thing now are they?" he asked.  
"I like to dance, I've been to all the dances, besides it was the junior prom," I pointed out.  
"I'd rather not go then show up alone while all my friends had dates, looking pathetic" he interjected shooting me a meaningful look.  
"Is that why you decided that you just had to work today? Your manager probably would have given you time off if you'd explained it was prom night," I snapped back as we pulled into Cokie's street.  
"Actually it was a last minute thing, some one called in sick and the boss threatened to fire me unless I showed up," Cary said with a smug annoying grin.  
Even in the darkness I could still see that smile.  
"Besides I thought the girl I wanted to ask already had a date" he added and I saw Cokie's lit up house in the distance.  
"Oh" I said again needlessly as I parked my car.  
"Yeah" "You could have at least asked her you know, she might have said yes," I pointed out blushing hotly.  
"You don't know this girl Thomas, she can make Yes sound like a death sentence" he pointed out.  
"I think I know her very well" I thought but didn't say instead I turned to him.  
"Cary if I ever did anything to come off as well an evil bitch. I'm sorry ok? Even you deserve a bit of respect I suppose" I apologised.  
"Oh you are an evil bitch Thomas but thats part of your charm" he grinned wickedly and I hit him on the shoulder.  
"Hey that hurt!" "It was supposed to" I smiled.  
"Are you coming in?" he asked and I glanced at the cars clock.  
"I don't know, my curfews at one am," I said shrugging her shoulders.  
"So? It's only 11:53" he said checking the clock.  
"Yeah but I still need to drive home" "Every where in Stony Brooks takes twenty minutes, you can come in for half an hour," he continued, sounding almost. Desperate?  
I stared at the drunken party spilling out into the street, normally that wasn't my kind of thing at all.  
Ever since Amelia died in the eighth grade at the hands of a drunk driver I'd never been a fan of alcohol.  
But just because I wasn't it didn't mean other people were.  
"I guess I should go in, and see if any of my friends need a ride home," I admitted reluctantly grabbing my purse.  
"There's the responsible Kristy Thomas who we all know and love" he smirked sarcastically.  
And then suddenly his hand was wrapped around mine and the cars radio was still playing.  
_Girlie so groovy I want you to know, don't know about you but I am un chien andalusia, want to grow up to be a debaser_ I stared at his hand but I didn't say anything as I switched the car off and slid my keys into my purse.

I wasn't used to coming last, my world was usually a very competitive place.  
And I never liked being left behind by my friends who seemed to experience things way before I did.  
But maybe there were some things in life that could be compared to a jog around the local park, as apposed to a marathon or a game of basketball.  
Maybe there were some things you were supposed to experience by yourself? With out worrying about coming first or whatever.  
I almost liked that idea, as we walked to the party together his hand still clasped onto mind I realised I wasn't ready to run as far as Mary Anne, or maybe Claudia had.  
But I was ready to start.


End file.
